"Table for two?" asks the Maitre d' as my husband and I arrive at the head of the queue. Automatically, we look behind us as though, without our knowledge, another couple has joined us. They have to ask, I tell myself, because any number of people could be joining us. "Yes," we say, "two for dinner, non-smoking." We know the routine, seasoned diners that we are.
Yet for some reason, every experience is unique. I never know when the shroud of invisibility will descend upon me, transforming me and my dining companions into apparitions unseen by all restaurant personnel. It's happened on more than one occasion.
I remember a time when two friends and I went to lunch at a local restaurant, not some fast food joint, but a respectable establishment with a salad bar. It's Noon, lunch time, we enter. No one greets us.
We could see that other patrons were seated in the dining room so after a decent wait of a minute or two, we seat ourselves. Three women with coats and purses, proceed to a table, remove their coats and settle in--who wouldn't notice? Now, while sitting at the table and observing the other customers, the waiters and waitresses, we decide to get the salad bar. We need to get back to work in a limited amount of time and with the way things are going, that seems the best route to take. Therefore, we reason, we will just get up and help ourselves. Someone will surely come along in a couple of minutes and acknowledge us, then we can tell them we are just getting the salad bar.
We get up from our table, talking and laughing, pick up dishes and proceed to heap our plates with as assortment of crisp greens and fresh cut vegetables from an array of colorful options--carrots, green olives, red beets, tri-colored pasta salad, three bean salad, cottage cheese, croutons, and other salad bar delicacies. We help ourselves to glasses of water, we need to diet anyway, no need for drinks. After pleasant conversation while munching and crunching, we realize that despite (what seems to us) our obvious presence in the middle of the dining room, no one has spoken to us. It's as if we're invisible.
"Well, surely," Maureen says to us, "someone will notice us when we go to leave. Then they'll bring us our bill and we'll pay up, but we have to get back to work." We all agree that the fastest way to get noticed is to act like we are leaving. We put on our coats, pick up our purses and head for the door. At the door, we stop, we turn, we survey the room, and still no one appears to see us at all. We open the door and exit as gales of hysterical laughter overwhelm us. We can't believe it's true. How could they not notice us? We walked right in, made our presence known. We weren't quiet or sneaky, and still it's as if we didn't exist.
The others are incredulous but I'm not quite as surprised. "I often wonder if I could have been a cat burglar or turned to a life of crime," I say, "since hardly any one ever sees me. But I've never known my invisibility to encompass two other people."
"You know, you're right," Nancy says to me, "I've noticed it takes longer to get service when I'm with you. But nothing like this has ever happened before." She's right.
My reverie is interrupted as the Maitre d' says, "Come this way." Obediently, Mark and I follow him as he cuts a passageway in the darkened dining room amid the sounds of clinking glasses, and clattering silverware. No one looks up. The aroma of garlic wafts about us as we settle into our seats. We look around at what the other patrons have in front of them. "Your waiter will be right with you," the Maitre d' states as he produces our menus.
"Hmm, I wonder if that's true," I say to myself. My husband and I have often discussed our invisibility problem. "I don't understand it," I say, "we're pleasant, congenial people, easy to please, and good tippers. So, why doesn't anyone ever want to wait on us?"
"Probably, because you're invisible," my husband laughs, "and you take me with you. Let's see what happens this time."
To read more stories, click Bucky's Story
Cleo's
Story
Cinnamon and
Spice's Story
Bucky Tries
Chinese Herbs
To read about our typical day go to: Pet Perks
How I got Cleo is a whole other story!! Cleo's Story
Read about ice cream Lessons Learned By the Scoop
Read about deep sea fishing in a Nor'Easter A Midsummer's Nightmare
Read about a fictional girl Lacey Santini
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